Chapter 163
Chloe's POV:
Parker was busy in my kitchen. The aroma of sizzling steak and garlic filled my apartment. He moved with easy confidence, flipping vegetables in a pan.
Ding-dong.
Two sharp chimes broke the atmosphere.
A moment later, a familiar voice drifted through the door. "Chloe. Open up, it's me."
My blood froze. It was Marcus.
I instinctively looked at Parker. He had stopped cooking. He didn't turn around immediately, but the muscles in his back tensed under his shirt. When he finally looked at me, his expression was dark and heavy.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I whispered, panic rising. "I didn't invite him."
Since Parker’s last warning, Marcus had stayed away. I thought it was over.
Parker didn't speak. His face was terrifyingly calm.
Outside, a heavy fist pounded on the wood. "Honey! Open the door! "
My jaw dropped. Honey? Was he trying to get me killed?
Parker set the spatula down. He took a step toward me. "Honey?"
I let out a nervous, dry laugh. "He's yelling nonsense. Listen to him, he's drunk. You can't take a drunkard's words seriously."
Parker gave me a cold, sweeping glance. "I'll deal with you later."
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. His voice changed instantly, sounding urgent. "Yes, 911? I need to report a break-in. There is a man smashing my door, trying to hurt me and my girlfriend. Address is..."
I stared at him, speechless. He rattled off my address and hung up. Then, he wrapped an arm around my waist and marched me toward the door.
"What are you doing?" I hissed.
"Showing him who lives here," Parker said coldly.
He unlocked the deadbolt and yanked the door open.
Marcus, who had been leaning his weight against the wood, stumbled inside. He caught himself on the frame, blinking blearily. When his eyes focused on Parker, confusion washed over his flushed face.
"You," Marcus slurred. "Why are you here?"
Parker offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm at my girlfriend's house. Is there a problem? I should be asking you why you think it's okay to bang on her door like a maniac."
Marcus swayed on his feet. The smell of alcohol was overpowering. "You're lying," he spat. "Didn't you break up?"
"Who told you that?" Parker asked mockingly. "If we broke up, could I do this?"
Before I could react, Parker pulled me close and crushed his lips against mine.
I widened my eyes but didn't push him away.
Parker pulled back slowly, turning to look at Marcus, whose face had gone a sickly shade of gray. Marcus clenched his fists, his eyes red with rage as he stared at us.
"Is that clear enough?" Parker asked.
Marcus looked at me with a painful, betrayed expression. "Chloe..."
"Who called the police?" a sharp voice interrupted.
Marcus spun around. Two uniformed officers stood in the hallway.
Parker’s demeanor shifted instantly. He pulled me into his chest, shrinking back as if terrified. "I did, Officer."
I watched, stunned. Parker was an incredible actor.
He pointed a shaking finger at Marcus. "Officer, it's this guy. He's drunk, he was smashing against our door and threatening us. My girlfriend is terrified."
Marcus looked bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not lying," Parker said, his voice trembling perfectly.
I decided to play along. I gripped Parker’s shirt, burying my face in his chest. "Officer, please... he's scaring me. Please take him away."
Marcus gasped, looking at me in disbelief.
Parker smirked, invisible to the police, and stroked the back of my head gently. "Don't be scared, baby. The police are here."
The two officers looked annoyed. "Alright, that's enough," one said, pulling out handcuffs. Click.
"Come with us."
"Officer, listen to me!" Marcus shouted, struggling. "I didn't do anything! This is my girlfriend's house!"
The officers grimaced at the smell of liquor on him. "How much did you drink, buddy? You can't even find your own girlfriend's house?"
"Alcohol really messes you up," the other officer muttered. "You're at the wrong place."
"I'm not wrong!" Marcus screamed, thrashing. "Her name is Chloe Vance! She's my girlfriend!"
"If you're not at the wrong place, that makes it worse," the officer said sternly. "That means this was premeditated harassment and trespassing. Save it for the station."
Marcus, despite the alcohol, realized he was trapped. He looked back at us—Parker holding me tight, me hiding my face. He gritted his teeth so hard I thought they would crack.
He had been set up.
As the police dragged Marcus away, Parker stepped back and slammed the door shut.
Bang.
The sound echoed in the silence. Parker locked it and turned around. The fear was gone. He walked toward me, step by step.
I swallowed hard, backing away until my shoulders hit the wall. "Parker..."
He smirked, but it was cold.
"What... what are you going to do?" I stammered.
Parker stopped right in front of me. He leaned down, placing both hands on the wall on either side of my head, trapping me. I could feel the danger radiating off him.
"Parker, don't be like this," I whispered.
"Did you call each other 'honey'?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
I knew lying wouldn't work.
Parker’s eyes were icy. He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment, then pushed off the wall. Without another word, he turned and walked into the bedroom.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
I glanced at the dining table. The food was getting cold. I cleared the dishes and washed them in silence. I stalled in the living room for a while, afraid to go into the bedroom. Finally, I crept to the door and pushed it open.
A small lamp was on. Parker was lying on the bed, his back to me. I couldn't tell if he was asleep.
I went to the guest room down the hall. I climbed into the smaller bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time before exhaustion finally took me.
When I opened my eyes, the morning sun was streaming in.
I sat up and froze. I wasn't in the guest room. I was in the master bedroom, in my own bed.
Parker wasn't there. Had he carried me back in the middle of the night?
I slid out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Parker was there, plating breakfast.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Wash up. Eat."
His tone was neutral. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his back.
"Parker," I murmured. "You know I love you, right?"
He paused. He turned around in my arms, his expression unreadable.
"Me and Marcus... it's really over," I said, looking up at him. "You have to believe me."
Parker’s lips curved slightly. "If I proposed to you right now, would you say yes?"
My heart skipped a beat. I stared at him, searching his face. He looked serious.
"You can try," I whispered.
He leaned down to kiss me, but I put a hand on his chest. "Your parents really know how to raise a son. You can cook, you're gentle..."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is it possible I just grew up this way naturally?"
"Your good looks are definitely from them, though," I teased. And it was true. He was handsome in a way that wasn't fragile; he was strong without being brutish.
Parker chuckled, the tension finally breaking. "Fine. I'll take you home to meet them soon. You can thank them yourself."
He kissed my forehead. "Hungry? I made soup."
"I need to shower first," I said.
"Okay. I'll wait."
I went to the bathroom, feeling a weight lift off my chest. When I came back out, Parker placed a bowl of soup in front of me.
"Move in with me," he said.
I hesitated for only two seconds before nodding. "Okay."
Parker smiled. "I'll help you pack later."
By that afternoon, Parker had hired movers, broken my lease, and moved every single box I owned into his penthouse.